


Kids

by chasexjackson



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, percabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasexjackson/pseuds/chasexjackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When they were four, she made him cry. When they were twenty-four, he made her cry. There have been numerous incidents in-between, but these two stand out above everything else. Because the first time signified the beginning of their friendship, and the other signified the end of it.</i>
</p><p>OR The story of how Annabeth and Percy grew up together, apart, and together again. Human AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kids

**Author's Note:**

> edited on 24/02/2016 with a slightly varied ending. original version still on ff.net

_North isn't true, 'til it's leading me to you._

_You are the weight that I know._

[Demons by Dry the River]

* * *

 

Annabeth is wearing a yellow dress with matching ribbons in her hair. Her four year old face scowls at her step-mother as she smooths the itchy material down over Annabeth's skin. It's her first day of pre-school and she wants to wear her dungarees because they have pockets and owls on them, but her step-mother is forever dressing her up like a Barbie doll because she has two sons of her own and wants Annabeth to be a princess. Annabeth hates princesses; she thinks they are silly. She wants to be the hero who slays the dragon and saves the kingdom. She wants to play in the dirt and make mud-pies; she wants to chop the heads off the dolls her step-mother gives to her; she wants to wear her dungarees and not this horrible itchy dress.

There are other girls wearing dresses at the pre-school. They are playing in the Wendy house. Her step-mother kisses her on the cheek and tells her to have a lovely day and she will pick her up at half past three and Annabeth doesn't cry like some of the other children do. There is a boy with black hair who clings to his mother as tears stream down his face, and Annabeth immediately dislikes him. She doesn't look back at her step-mother as the teacher leads her over to the Wendy house. She complains that she doesn't want to play in the Wendy house and the teacher tells her not to be silly because all the other girls are playing in the Wendy house. And when Annabeth tells her she wants to play at the water tray instead, the teacher laughs and tells her she would ruin her pretty dress if she did that.

There is one girl in a blue dress who orders the others around and tries to get Annabeth to pour some pretend tea for her. When Annabeth refuses, the girl – Taylor – says she's banned because _she_ is in charge and everyone has to do what she tells them to or they're not allowed in the Wendy house and that means they're stupid. Annabeth throws a plastic tea cup at Taylor's head.

She goes to play in the water tray instead, where she finds the black-haired boy. He is no longer crying and looks content as he plays with the water, filling and emptying the plastic shapes and funnels they have been given. He plays on his own and bites his bottom lip in concentration, but looks up at her when she picks up a watering can and fills it up with water. He only meets her gaze for a moment before blushing and looking back at the plastic cone in his hands.

Annabeth ignores him for the most part, but she can't help but notice that he keeps glancing at her every four or five seconds.

"What are you looking at?" she says eventually.

The boy's cheeks turn pink and he stares wide-eyed at her. "No— nothing," he stutters.

She continues to frown at him. "You keep looking at me."

His face is bright red as he stares down at the water. "You look like a princess," he mutters, barely audible over the shouting chaos unfolding around them.

She throws her watering can into the water tray, causing a wave of cold water to surge into his face. He cries out and throws his arms over his face. "I do not!" she shouts. "I am not a princess! Shut up, you're just stupid!"

The boy doesn't even look up at her. She hears him sniffling as he runs off and she frowns at the place where he was stood. Her yelling had gone unnoticed in the scattered volume of the room and after a moment another two boys come over and start playing with the toys; they are loud and keep splashing Annabeth and she scowls at them before sulking away to find somewhere else to play. All of the other children are playing with each other, having already formed fast friendships over plastic toys and colouring books in the way only children can.

Eventually, Annabeth seeks out a quiet corner of the room, only to find it occupied by the dark haired boy whom she had yelled at earlier. He sits with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head tucked into his arms. Annabeth hesitates, and then moves to sit next to him against the wall, crossing her legs and tucking her feet underneath her bum.

"Hello," she says quietly and the boy starts.

He looks up and stares at her mutely, looking terrified.

"Sorry I shouted at you and made you cry," she says.

"I'm not crying," he says, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Okay."

Another sniff. "Okay."

Annabeth picks at a scab on her knee. "I'm Annabeth," she mumbles.  

He sniffs again and after a moment, mutters  back, "I'm Percy."

"Why are you on your own?" she asks him, still picking at her knee.

"I don't have any friends here."

"I"ll be your friend," she offers, looking at him and his wide eyes, which are a funny sea-green colour she has never seen before. "And I won't make you cry again, I promise."

"I wasn't crying," he insists. "You'll be my friend?"

"Your _best_ friend." Annabeth nods. "I don't have one of those."

"Okay," he says again, and he even smiles.

It's a timid, barely-there smile, but a smile nonetheless.

* * *

 

They get married when they are eight years old. Taylor Kelley – blue dress, Wendy House Taylor – is the vicar and she asks Percy is he is _really_ _sure_ six times during the ceremony in the school playground. Percy is blushing and looking like he wants to melt into the concrete as Annabeth kisses him on the cheek, her daisy chain tipping precariously on her head.

Later, in math class, Percy nudges her in the ribs and whispers in her ear, asking her if they are really married.

"Forever." She grins in an evil manner, holding back a snort of laughter as Percy's eyes widen with worry.

"Do we have to tell my mom?"

"Yes," she whispers back, staring down at her exercise book and scribbling down an answer. Percy gnaws on the end of his pencil and frowns at the page in front of him. Annabeth leans over to whisper in his ear a moment later. "The answer's fourteen."

"Huh? Oh, thanks," he mutters, scribbling the answer down.

Later again, when the bell rings for the end of the day, Percy runs up to Annabeth as she walks through the school gates towards the huddle of chattering parents.

"Annabeth?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we really married though? Properly, do we have to live together after school and everything? Because I want to live in a—"

"Percy." She stops and stares at him. "We're eight. We're not old enough to be properly married, you doofus."

He scowls at her. "'m not a doofus."

"Yes you are. You have to be sixteen to get married; Katie-Marie told me so "cause her older sister is pregnant and she wants to marry her boyfriend but he can't because she's only fifteen. We just got fake-married."

Percy visibly relaxes. "So I don't have to tell my mom?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, you don't have to tell your mom, Percy."

"Okay."

And they start walking again. As they go, Annabeth bumps her shoulder against his. "Would it be so horrible to be married to me?"

Percy frowns. "I don't think so. But I wouldn't want to get a divorce and apparently most people who get married get divorced as well."

"Not all people do."

"I don't wanna take the risk."

Annabeth laughs, feeling a rush of delight in her belly at his words. They've reached the gates and Annabeth spots her father standing by his car. She stops again and turns to Percy. "Okay, will you promise me something different then?"

"Sure."

"Promise you'll always be my best friend."

He smiles. "You can't get a divorce for that."

"No you can"t. Now pinky-promise me."

Percy obediently holds out his little finger to her and Annabeth links it with hers. She narrows her eyes at him and swings their hands like they are making a business deal.

"Best friends for life. No backsies, Percy Jackson." She narrows her eyes at him for a moment, before releasing his hand and running towards her dad. As she goes, she calls over her shoulder, "See you tomorrow, doofus!"

* * *

 

Middle school brings some changes to their friendship. Percy is less naive and usually has more comebacks to her smart remarks. Annabeth grows taller than him and continuously smarter. They become friends with a scrawny boy with acne and a stutter, called Grover. Percy spends most of his time smart-talking the bullies who pick on his new friend.

The three of them walk home together after school; they reach Grover's house first, then Annabeth's. Percy's is in the opposite direction, but he usually walks at least part of the way with them before he bikes home and stops off at the Candy store on Fell Street. On days when Percy is feeling more generous or chivalrous or his mother has told him off, he will walk Annabeth right to her door and chuck her on the shoulder before riding home.

On Tuesday nights, Annabeth has to stay late to walk her little brothers home from soccer practice; the boys often stay behind with her to keep her company. They buy candy from the vending machine in the community centre across the road and sit on the wall outside school telling each other bad jokes and arguing about what they would do if they won the jackpot, or if they were stranded on a beach.

In the summer before sixth grade, Annabeth takes up roller-blading. She spends the first two weeks practicing up and down Percy's street and falls down more times than she can count. Percy ends up helping her into his house a few times to clean her cuts and cover her in plasters and mumble that maybe she shouldn't be doing this if she's getting so cut up all the time. But Annabeth is stubbornly determined and perseveres until she makes the school roller-derby team in the October tryouts.

In the seventh grade, a new girl starts at their school: Rachel Elizabeth Dare. And she immediately takes a liking to Percy. Annabeth tries to like her, she really does. But there is something nagging about that girl; a grudge manifests whenever the red-head appears and sits stubbornly in the forefront of Annabeth's thoughts. And this means that her time spent with Percy reduces by a significant amount. They find themselves fighting about petty little things, and half way through eighth grade she stops going over to his house for dinner and ends up walking home with Grover most days. Percy tends to walk back with Rachel, whose mansion is in Percy's direction from school.

Despite all of this, come their graduation dance, an evening spent in the streamer-decorated school gym with bad punch and awkward dancing, Annabeth still had expected to go with him.

"What do you mean you have a _date_?" she asks as they walk home together from school one day. They have already dropped Grover off and they are alone. "We promised we would go together, as friends."

Percy stares at the front wheel of the bike he pushes along, and worries his bottom lip. "That was two years ago, Annabeth."

"So what?" She adjusts the roller blades over her shoulder and Percy flinches like she might swing them at him. "We're not friends anymore? You've replaced me?"

"No! Annabeth, come on," he pleads, looking up at her with wide eyes. "You're still my best friend, but I couldn't just say no to her."

"To _whom_?" she asks dangerously.

Percy stares at the ground again and mumbles, "Rachel."

"Rachel? You're going with _Rachel?_ She asked you?"

"Yeah," he says defensively, "why is that so weird?"

Annabeth shakes her head. Her voice is full of bitterness. "No, it's not weird at all. I'm sure you two will look great together and have an awesome time together and it will be really great for you both."

She has started stalking ahead of him and Percy's bike clicks faster as he hurries to catch up to her. "You could go with Grover," he suggests and Annabeth whirls to face him.

"Oh don't do me any favours, Percy!" she shouts. "Have a _wonderful_ time with Rachel."

"Annabeth!" he calls after her, but she is already running down the street away from him, scrubbing at the humiliating, traitorous tears springing in her eyes.

When she gets home, Annabeth runs straight up to her bedroom and slams the door behind her. Full sobs tear from her throat and she gasps after each one. She drops her bag and roller blades and crawls onto her bed, clutching a cushion to her chest, and cries. She is not sure what exactly she is crying for, but it feels like she has lost something somewhere over the past two years, and she doesn't know how to get it back.

Annabeth does not go to the dance, even after her step-mother's pestering and pointing out that they had spent hours (on a shopping trip that _she_ had insisted on) finding the perfect dress, and now it is going to waste as Annabeth lies in bed in her pyjamas and reads. But Annabeth's logic is that if she had gone to the dance she would just be miserable all night; at least now she can be miserable in the comfort of her own bed.

But sometime after ten someone is ringing the doorbell and Annabeth lifts her head off her pillow to listen. She hears the door open and her father exchange a few words with whoever is there. _It's quite late…_ she hears …might _be asleep…_ And that's all it takes for Annabeth to spring out of bed, abandoning the incredible bore that is _Wuthering Heights_ , and running to yank her bedroom door open. She crosses to the balcony and from there she can see her father's back as he stands at the front door, talking to…

"Percy?"

Both he and Annabeth's father look up at her and while her father frowns, Percy throws her a tentative smile.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, not moving from her spot on the landing.

Percy tries to inch his way inside, but Annabeth's father is standing firmly in his way. Annabeth can see the frustration on her friend's face. "Annabeth, can I just talk to you? _Please?_ "

 _No, you can't!_ Her mind shouts, but her feet cross the landing and start down the stairs before she can stop them. About halfway down she remembers she is wearing her owl pyjamas but it is too late to go back and change. Then she is standing in front of Percy and telling her dad that it's alright and the two of them step outside into the cool night. Annabeth sits on the porch steps and Percy follows soon after, keeping half a metre between them.

Percy is wearing a button up white shirt that his mother has clearly ironed and black jeans with his usual scuffed up sneakers.

"Where's Rachel?" she asks, shifting on the cold stone step.

"She's at the dance."

"Oh?"

Percy sighs through his nose. "She told me to leave, to come here."

Annabeth continues to stare at her bare feet and the chipped purple nail varnish on her toes. "Why?"

"Because I was “moping around”." She hears the quotation marks in his voice and imagines Rachel in a beautiful dress, arms crossed over her chest, staring Percy down as he sits _moping_ on one of the gym benches. The image oddly makes her smile. "So she told me to come and make up with you."

"So you're just here because she told you to come here?"

"No." Percy grunts in frustration. "Annabeth, I'm here because… I'm here—ugh, are you really gonna make me say it?"

She feigns ignorance. "Say what?"

She's still not looking at him but she knows he's rolling his eyes. "You're my best friend. And I wish we had gone together tonight and I'm sorry I bailed on you." He says the whole thing in a rush and when she finally looks up at him his cheeks are pink.

Annabeth lets him suffer for a minute or two, staring out at the streetlights at the end of the drive and picking her nails.

"We're still going to high school together right?" she mumbles eventually.

"Yeah." He smiles at her, clearly relieved. "You, me and Grover against the world."

"What about Rachel?

Percy's eyes are dark and wide in the streetlight. "She's going to a some fancy school in the city that her dad went to. But I promised her we"d stay friends."

Annabeth feels a twinge of annoyance, but it is much smaller, muted by the familiar comfort in her chest of knowing that Percy is still her friend. Her _best_ friend. And with Rachel at a different school, maybe things will be different.

"Okay," she says, bumping his shoulder with her own, "bring on high school."

* * *

 

Annabeth hopes that kissing isn't always like this. Greg Keynes is twice her size and has one hand on her behind as his tongue assaults her mouth in the most unpleasant way. Isn't her first kiss supposed to be special? Romantic? Sweet? Fireworks and rainbows and all that?

Well, if it is, then Annabeth feels thoroughly cheated.

She is standing next to a washer-dryer in Rachel Elizabeth Dare's mansion of a house, wearing a little black dress and strappy stilettos that belong to one of her friends. The rest of the party is a buzz of music and voices, a million miles away from Annabeth, and Greg's heavy body is pressing against hers. She becomes aware of his too strong arms pushing her up onto the washer-dryer and thick fingers spreading her legs for him to step between.

"Woah, wait," she gasps, pulling away from him and leaning back on the machine. He is too close, his breath and clothes smell of beer and she feels suddenly very sick. "What are you doing?"

"What's wrong?" he asks, with his hands still resting on her thighs.

Annabeth pushes his hands away and scrambles backwards, tucking her legs up to her chest. She feels far too vulnerable but there is nowhere else for her to go.

"I don't, um… I don't think this is a good idea," she mutters.

Greg leans closer still. His fingers trace her knees and she wants to slap them away but she is frozen as his eyes meet hers. "It's okay, Anna. No one's gonna walk in."

"I don't care," she says, "I don't care about that."

"Then what's the hold up?"

Perhaps that's what it takes for Annabeth to gather her strength; to realise how deeply this boy is invading her personal space. His hands are still roaming up her legs and underneath the fabric of her dress and she wants to scream because this is too much and she wants him to stop.

"Get off me!" he says, feeling a flush of panic. She pushes at his hands but they dig in and she cries out in pain. His left hand clamps over her mouth.

"Will you cool it?" he hisses. "Just relax."

Annabeth tears at his hands and arms but he is far bigger and far stronger than she is. Panic swells in her chest and she kicks out.

Greg groans and stumbles away from her, clutching at his stomach where the heel of her shoe struck. Annabeth lands squarely on her feet and swings at him, punching him straight across the jaw.  She has a feeling it hurts her more than him as her knuckles swell with pain but Greg at least looks shocked as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

"You bitch!"

Annabeth shoves at his chest before he has a chance to come at her again. "Fuck off!" she yells, her throat thick.

"Whatever," he mutters, backing towards the door, "I'm out of here. Crazy bitch," he mutters before slamming the door behind him.

The frame shudders and so does Annabeth as she leans back against the drier and slides to the floor. She tugs her dress down and scrambles to get the shoes off. When she has hurled them at the door, she tucks her legs up to her chest and drops her forehead to her knees. Her hand aches still but she ignores the pain and wraps her arms around her ankles, holding onto her wrists and binding them in place; holding herself together.

Her first kiss.

She is fifteen years old.

Annabeth is a realistic person. She hadn't really expected rainbows and fireworks, but she had wanted more than this. She had wanted it to be sweet, gentle, meaningful. She had wanted nerves and butterflies and awkwardness.

Now she wants to erase this from her memory.

A knock at the door makes her jump but she doesn't move from her spot on the floor as the door creaks open and two pairs of feet walk in. Annabeth sees purple flares and blue jeans but she doesn't look any higher.

"Annabeth?" Percy asks. "What are you doing in here?"

She swallows and tries to speak, but her voice has been taken from her.

"Look, Annabeth," Rachel begins, "I have generously opened up my home so that all of these underage people can get drunk on cheap beer and my father's whiskey. And you're sitting on the floor of my laundry room."

Annabeth tilts her head back until it touches the washer-dryer she is leaning against. Rachel is frowning at her with her arms crossed over her sequin-covered chest. Next to her, Percy looks worried and just a little bit drunk as he sways ever so slightly.

"I'm fine," Annabeth says.

Rachel crouches down to her height. Concern touches the corners of her mouth, the tilt of her eyebrows. She reaches out to touch Annabeth's arm and Annabeth can't stop herself flinching.

Rachel's eyes widen as comprehension immediately dawns in her eyes. "Who?" she asks, her voice like the blade of a knife. Sharp and unforgiving. After Annabeth accepted that Rachel wasn't taking Percy away from her, it did not take long for the redhead to become a close friend; and not much longer for Annabeth to realise how fiercely protective Rachel was of her friends.

Annabeth contemplates staying quiet, insisting that nothing happened and she is just sitting in the laundry room because she wanted a moment to herself. But then she imagines Greg's face again, his hands on her legs and her mouth, and she wants nothing more than for Rachel to kick him out of her house. Preferably with the help of her football playing friends. She would love to do it herself, but just contemplating moving off the floor right now makes her feel a little sick.

"Greg Keynes," she mutters.

"That little rat," Rachel hisses and springs upright, storming from the room and slamming the door behind her as she goes.

Percy is still kneeling in front of her, his eyes wide in what looks like panic. "What did he do?" he whispers, like he is afraid of the answer.

Annabeth shakes her head. "Nothing. He just— we were kissing and then he… he wanted more and I wouldn't let him go any further so he got pissed and I punched him."

Percy is shaking his head at her. He shifts around and sits down next to her. His arm is warm against hers and she releases the lock on her body and tips her head to rest on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Percy asks quietly.

She nods against his shoulder.

"Do you want me to go and fight for your honour?"

She laughs through her nose and leans into him. Percy lifts his arm for her and rests it around her shoulders.

"You'd just get your ass kicked," she mutters.

"Thanks so much." He stretches his legs out and she does the same. Hers are just a little shorter than his; her bare feet line up with his ankles. Her knees are knobbly and her skin is too pale, but she begins to forget when Percy knocks his sneaker-clad foot against hers. "Are you okay though?"

"I'm fine."

"I've known you long enough to know that _fine_ means _I feel like crap_."

Annabeth's laugh turns into a sob, and all of a sudden she is crying. Percy looks panicked as he wraps his arms around her and she cries into his shirt.

"It's okay," he murmurs, "he's gone now. You're safe."

But Annabeth doesn't want safety, she wants to go back. To five minutes ago so that she can hit Greg again; to the beginning of the night so that she can avoid him altogether; to middle school where her biggest problem was English homework and Percy hanging out with Rachel all the time; or even better, second grade, where she married her best friend with a haribo ring.

Things were so much simpler then.

(If only she knew what was to come.)

* * *

 

In their junior year, Annabeth is made captain of the school's roller-derby team, and half the team thinks she is dating Percy. It doesn't help that he turns up to watch most of their practices, yelling at her as Grover sits close by, rolling his eyes and texting his girlfriend. Annabeth usually stands on the back of Percy's bike on their way home because her legs ache from practice and Grover rolls along beside them on his scooter.

In these years they have both grown, Percy is finally taller by exactly three inches and Annabeth has gone up from an A cup to almost a B – at a push (on a good day). She is built like an athlete; with long legs and flat everything. Percy is still skinny and has yet to bulk out into his taller frame but for his arms and legs, which have developed tight ropes of muscle from the amount of time he spends on his mountain bike. Grover is a little shorter than Percy and his hair manages to get even curlier as he gets older. They all get their share of bad skin and pimples, and even more bruises and grazes from their respective sports. Annabeth sometimes covers the worst of hers with a little concealer, a fact that Percy is slightly resentful about until she offers to do his make-up. He refuses; _Men don't wear make-up, Annabeth. It's a good thing you're not a man then._

They go fairly unnoticed at a school of almost two thousand students; just another three people to pass in the halls, sit next to in class, ignore in the cafeteria. Nothing special. Just normal teenagers at a normal school.

That is, until the semi-finals of the roller-derby inter-schools championship.

Annabeth's team – wearing tiny black shorts, elbow and knee pads, and red shirts with the school's logo emblazoned across the front – is winning. Annabeth is the jammer, wearing a black and red striped helmet. She speeds through the group and reaches her teammate Jennifer at the front who grabs hold of her outstretched arm and whips Annabeth forward, giving her the momentum to get away from the pack of elbowing girls. The crowd is screaming as she pumps her legs faster and catches up to the back of the group. And then she is threading through them, dodging elbows and feet and shoulders. Her own teammates protect her and she makes it through, keeping ahead of the other team's jammer and moving faster, faster to make it round to the back of the group again.

She threads her way in again, keeping close to the inside of the track as she tucks her arms in and tries to make herself as small as possible. A kick to the ankle sends her off balance and in her attempt to fix it, her body is flung directly in the path of Morgana Griffin – one of the larger girls on the other team – and Annabeth receives an elbow between her shoulder blades for the trouble. Her balance is already forward so she stumbles and throws her arms out to break her fall and lands sharply on her left arm. She cries out in pain before a roller blade flies towards the side of her head.

The next thing she knows of the world around her is blurred noise and wide blue-green eyes staring down at her.

"Annabeth?" Percy asks, "are you alright?"

She wants to answer that she is fine, and that she needs to get up so that they can finish the game. But her head is pounding and she can't seem to get her mouth to form words and now her breathing is coming out short and fast and she can't slow it down. All of this, and then a searing pain shoots up her left arm and she cries out.

Percy visibly panics and pulls away as she reaches to cup her left elbow in her right hand.

"Don't move," an authoritative voice sounds from somewhere above, and her coach appears with a deep frown on his face – deeper than usual. He stoops down to her level, his knees clicking, and looks over her arm. "Looks dislocated. You'll need to go to the hospital, Beth."

"I don't…" she manages, gulping in a few more sharp breaths as the pain grows.

"C"mon," he grunts, tucking his arms underneath her shoulders and knees, "I"ll take you." He hoists her up into his arms, careful not to disturb her arm but it still throbs painfully with the movement anyway.

Annabeth is vaguely aware of the audience and both teams watching her being carried away, but her head is still fuzzy and she cannot read their faces, so she tucks her face into Coach's shirt, ignoring his too-strong aftershave and closes her eyes. The air suddenly gets colder as they go outside. She is aware of a car door being opened and she is being placed in the back seat and closed in the stale smell of her coach's old truck. Outside, she hears Coach talking to someone in a clipped tone.

"You'll finish the game," he says.

"But Coach—" her teammate, Clarisse begins to object.

"Finish the game," he says more firmly. "She"ll be fine. There's no point cancelling when we've still got a capable team."

Clarisse sighs. "We"ll finish it Coach. And Chase? We"ll get them back for slamming you."

Annabeth is too caught up in the intense pain in her elbow to reply as Clarisse charges away, barking orders to her teammates. Annabeth has always thought the bigger girl resented her for being captain over her; she certainly tries to take charge of the team as often as she can. But those few words make Annabeth feel a little more appreciated. She loves these girls, with their pigtails and mouth guards and war cries as they charge around on their roller blades. They have become a family to her during the ups and downs of high school.

As she scrubs at the tears welling in her eyes – from the pain, not the random sentimental feelings, she tells herself – she hears another argument outside the car.

"Who are you anyway, kid?" Coach sounds impatient and pissed off – more so than usual.

"I'm her best friend. And if you don't let me in the car, I"ll be hanging off the back of it."

Coach sighs. Annabeth pictures him gritting his teeth. "Fine, get in the back."

And then the door is opening again and someone slides in next to Annabeth and carefully adjusts her next to him.

Percy. Of course, Percy.

"You okay?" he asks quietly as the engine starts.

She sniffs. "Never better."

Percy chuckles; she feels it rumble in his chest and smiles.

Percy used to pick her off the pavement when she was thirteen and scrawny; he is bigger and stronger now, and his presence is just as comforting to her. She settles her pounding head against his shoulder and slumps against him. Despite the spiking ache in her left elbow and right temple, Percy's hands – rubbing slow circles on her neck and her knee – are felt above the pain. His fingers leave imprints on her skin and she breathes in the sweet smell of him – laundry powder, burnt rubber, and sugar. She wants to breathe it in forever.

Percy tries to carry her into the hospital, but she insists that her _legs work just fine, quit coddling me_ , and walks into A&E with Percy's hand on her back. He sits next to her in the waiting room and fills out the long form in his neatest writing, which is still barely eligible.

Annabeth's parents don't arrive until Annabeth is being seen by a doctor half an hour later and she is surprised to see her mother – her actual birth-mother - standing in a suit-jacket and skirt with a cellphone pinioned between her shoulder and her ear. She glares at Percy – who sits holding Annabeth's hand as the doctor pokes and prods her arm – and then her Coach, who stands in the corner of the room looking very squashed.

"What happened to her?" her mother demands when she hangs up the phone. "I knew this…. this _activity_ was too dangerous. It's ridiculous anyway, what self-respecting girl rolls around tackling other girls like a… like a…"

"Like a brute?" Annabeth suggests groggily.

"Be quiet, Annabeth. This doesn't concern you," she snaps as Annabeth's father comes to her side and places a hand on her arm.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks, drawing her attention away from her mother, who is already quizzing the unfortunate junior doctor.

"Where's Elise?"

"She's at home with the boys. She asked after you though. She's worried about you."

"I'm fine," Annabeth insists. "It was just an accident."

"A very costly accident," her mother snips in.

"It doesn't matter, Athy," her father placates. Even after they separated, he has always been good at speaking calmly to Annabeth's mother when she is like this. "As long as our daughter is alright."

He gives her a pointed look and her haunches slowly come down. She lifts a hand to her chest and looks at Annabeth at last. "I just want the best for her." The tremor in her voice lets Annabeth know how truly worried she is.

Her parents show affection in strange ways. Her mother is strict and demanding, often pushing Annabeth to try harder and openly expressing disappointment in her rare lower grades. Her praise is so rare that Annabeth has to catch it like fireflies and hold it tightly to her chest before it dissipates and the disappointment rolls back in, tough and predictable.

Her father is distant and has little time for her outside of his obsessive projects, but he is caring in small amounts; Annabeth holds onto these moments too. He shows affection in bursts; like when he kissed the plaster on her knee when she was eight; as held her in his arms when her grandmother died when she was fourteen; the gentle touch of his hand on her arm now.

It took her a long time to realise that her parents love her. But they do.

* * *

 

"I can't believe you're crying!"

"I'm not crying, Annabeth."

"Then what do you call this wet stuff on your face? Apple juice?" she grabs his cheeks between her palms and grins when he shoves her off. "There's nothing wrong with crying at your graduation, Percy. I mean, you cried when we watched _Finding Nemo_ so this is acceptable."

Next to them, Grover laughs.

"I was not cry—"

"You three, turn around," Sally interrupts, "I want a nice photo."

"Mom," Percy starts to complain as she holds the camera up.

"Percy, I will want to look at this when I'm old and grey," Sally says. "Put your arm around your best friends and smile."

Annabeth chuckles and loops her arm around Percy's waist as his comes over her shoulder. She feels Grover's fingertips touch her arm from the other side and smiles. This is her tripod; her best friends for as long as she can remember. Their graduation robes are black over the boys" black trousers and starched white shirts, and her brand new green dress. Her hat is just a little too big and the tassel flicks into Percy mouth as they press together. They are just three among the hundreds of students stood on the football field, posing for cameras, talking, hugging, crying; saying their goodbyes.

Annabeth is not ready to say goodbye to her best friend.

But she is going to Cornell. And Percy, who clung to his mother's leg and cried on his first day of kindergarten, who called his mother every day when they went on a week-long camping trip in seventh grade, who Annabeth never thought would want to stray far from home, is going to Berkeley.

Berkeley in California. The other side of the country.

Two thousand, eight hundred and ninety eight miles away.

Annabeth nearly killed him when he first told her. She will go from seeing him almost every day to only seeing him in the holidays, two or three times a year. He has promised regular Skype calls and to be attached to his phone 24/7 if she needs him for anything, but Annabeth knows it won't be the same. She doesn't want to see him when she needs him, she wants to see him all the time, like she does now. She wants him hanging around and pissing her off. She wants to walk ten minutes to his house and camp out on his couch watching bad movies.

Annabeth is truly happy for him; he's about to start a new life so far away from everything he's ever known. It's the biggest thing he's ever done in his life and she is just sad that she won't be a part of it. Although they are taking a road trip at the beginning of September and she is staying with him for a week before flying back to New York and starting college at Cornell.

And then they will be in different time zones.

She tugs him closer now, pulls off her hat and tucks her head against his cheek, smiling wide for the camera and hoping her smarting eyes don't ruin the image.

* * *

 

College is a whole new experience for Annabeth.

Despite only being twenty miles from home, it feels like another state away, another country even. And without Piper, she's sure she wouldn't make it. Piper McLean is her incredibly beautiful roommate who drags her along to social events and needs dragging out of bed in the morning to go to classes. She is studying classical history and archaeology. In their first week, she joins them both up for rock climbing and lacrosse. Annabeth is begrudging at first, but actually finds that the extra-curricular activities are pretty fun. Outside of classes, she joins the archaeology society and finds a roller-derby team and makes the cut at try-outs. She and Piper are in agreement of avoiding sororities completely.

In her first semester, Annabeth learns a few very important things. The library is her second home; never take out a book with an overnight loan unless you want to rack up a fine that you have no way of paying back; keep chocolate hidden in your room, not in the communal kitchen; there is always one asshole that never cleans up after themselves in the communal areas, don't be that asshole; take-outs are a rare treat, don't live on them; you will gain weight and lose motivation; know your limit with alcohol; and if you want to study enough, have a social life, and be a member of sports teams, you will have to sacrifice a great deal of sleep.

Come Thanksgiving, Annabeth is ready for a break. Her father picks her up to drive her home and when she steps through the front door, it feels like a different world. Despite still living in the same city, this is the first time she has come home since starting college, and it feels like an eternity. She drops her bags by the door and her father kisses the top of her head before pottering back to his office. Her half-brothers sit in front of the television, controllers gripped in their hands; Annabeth receives a grunt from each of them in greeting and she smiles. It hasn't changed a bit. Her step-mother is in the kitchen, looking as beautiful and immaculate as usual; she gives Annabeth a far warmer greeting.

"I wanted to pick you up," she says as she wraps Annabeth in a bone cracking hug, "but Frederick wanted some alone time with you."

"It's okay," Annabeth says as she frees herself of the hug. She leans against the side and inhales deeply. "Smells good, what's cooking?"

Elise smooths down the front of her floral print dress and grins. "Lamb Tagine. I thought I would make your favourite for your homecoming."

Annabeth doesn't tell her that her favourite food is burnt macaroni and cheese with melted marshmallows because that's what she, Percy and Grover used to make when they had sleepovers. She smiles and tells her, "Sounds great, Elise."

She still doesn't call her mom. Annabeth has a mother; she just doesn't see her all that often. Athena sends her the odd email asking how she is doing and what college is like but even in writing she seems distracted. Annabeth wishes desperately for her mother to be more involved in her life. She wishes that she had attended her high school graduation; helped her with college applications; had met her roommate; or made what she thought was her daughter's favourite food when she came home for Thanksgiving. She hadn't spent a single Thanksgiving with Annabeth since she was five years old. Annabeth wants to resent her, but there is always something preventing her from doing so.

So she stands in the kitchen and answers her step-mother's questions about college, and for now, it is enough.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," Elise says some time later. "I invited someone over for dinner."

Annabeth frowns. "I thought it was a family dinner?"

Elise just smiles. "Well, he's close enough."

"Who—"

But the doorbell cuts her off and her step-mother smiles again. "Why don't you go and get that?"

She turns back to the sink and Annabeth dubious, goes to answer the door. Her brothers are still entranced by the television screen and Annabeth spares them an eye-roll as she pulls the door open.

Standing on her doorstep, with too long hair and hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, is… Percy.

He looks taller somehow. He is more tanned, though she already knows this from their Skype calls. But now that he is here in person, grinning like no tomorrow and _here_ , Annabeth might cry. She leaps on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight.

"You're here!"

Percy laughs and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her off the floor for a heart-splitting moment. "I know I am," he says.

"You said you weren't coming back until Sunday," she accuses, releasing her grip on him and standing firmly back on the doorstep to bat his shoulder.

He grins at her and she doesn't fail to notice how red his cheeks have gotten. "I lied."

"You ass."

He lifts a finger to her cheek. "Are you crying? Jeez, I know you missed me, but—"

She smacks his hand away and turns away from him, back inside the house. "Shut up, Percy," she says, wiping her cheek inconspicuously.

Percy follows her inside and closes the door behind him. "I missed this abuse. Life just didn't feel right without it. Hey, guys," he calls out to Matthew and Bobby.

"Hey, Percy!" they both call back enthusiastically. Go figure.

Their eyes remain trained on the screen though, which gives Annabeth a small feeling of satisfaction.

"Elise! We"ll be in my room."

. . .

"I forgot how comfy your bed is," Percy says as he lies spread eagle across it. "Dorm beds suck."

Annabeth faces away from him, pulling clothes out of her backpack and stuffing them in her drawers. "Tell me about it. I'm over dorms. I can't wait to move into a house next year."

"You know who you're living with yet?"

"Piper and I think a couple of girls down the hall."

"Piper seems cool."

Annabeth drops her empty backpack on her desk chair and falls next to Percy on the bed, letting out a heavy breath. "She is. I'm worried about you two meeting. I think you'll forget I'm your best friend and fall in love with her instead."

Percy lifts his head and gives her a scornful look. "Never. We made a promise, Annabeth."

She laughs. "A _pinky_ promise, in second grade."

He frowns. "Hey, I took that pretty seriously, you know. Best friends for life. No backsies, no divorces."

Annabeth rolls onto her side and props her head up on her elbow. She examines her best friend's face. His honest green eyes, his thick dark eyebrows pulled together, his puckered forehead, his tanned skin, his pink lips, pursed and ready to be kissed. She blinks and clears her throat.

"Of course. Just testing you, Jackson." She chucks him on the chin. "Best friends for life."

He grins at her. The skin around his eyes crinkles and she swears her heart skips a beat.

Annabeth tugs the hair falling across his forehead. "You need a haircut."

He flops onto his back. "You sound like my mom."

"Well you do."

"I'm a grown up, I can decide when or not to have a haircut."

Annabeth snorts. "Don't tell me you're growing it out to get it dreadlocked. Because that would definitely terminate our friendship."

He turns his face to her and grins. "No way. You made a promise."

"Promises can be broken."

It is his turn to snort. "Yeah right. If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you don't break promises."

And damn him, he is right.

* * *

 

In the spring semester of her senior year, Annabeth Chase comes to realise that she might be in love with her best friend.

She has dated three guys since she started college nearly four years ago and they have all been perfectly nice. Martyn was on her course; very intelligent, slightly arrogant about it, a little boring. Harrison went rock-climbing with her and Piper, and after three weeks of belaying for her and staring at her ass the entire time, she asked him out; he was good-looking, blonde and tall with impeccable cheek bones. But other than rock climbing, they had absolutely nothing in common, and Annabeth couldn't get past that.

And then there is Daniel. Daniel started coaching their roller-derby team in Annabeth's sophomore year. He is a twenty-three year old sports science NYU graduate. And although it is frowned upon, there are no formal rules against a coach dating a player, something Daniel had pointed out to Annabeth in the locker room after practice one day near the end of her sophomore year.

"No formal rules?" she questioned as she pulled her skates off. The other girls had already gone, Annabeth had stayed behind late to practice – her ankle was still weak after a bad sprain a month ago – and Daniel had stayed with her. "What about those ones pinned up on your door?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow at her and let out a little sigh before walking over to his office door and pulling the said list of rules down. He sat down on the bench opposite her, pulled a Sharpie from his pocket, and drew a clean line through rule eight. _No fraternising between teammates or coaches_.

"There," he said, "now your conscience is clear."

"Shouldn't it be your conscience? You're the one abusing your position of trust."

"I'm a coach, not a professor. And I have no morals. And you're hot and smart and I want to date you."

Annabeth shook her head, keeping her head down to hide her smile. "What makes you think I want to date you anyway?"

He reached out and drew her chin up with a forefinger. Daniel's mother was from Columbia, hence his dark skin. His eyes were blue and looked almost purple in a certain light, his hair was cropped short and grew in tight brown curls when he let it. He was gorgeous, and knew it too. But his arrogance is what had drawn Annabeth's attention in the first place. He could be doing far more accomplished and well-paid things with his degree, but instead he is coaching a girl's college roller-derby team. And perhaps that has something to do with the uniforms the girls wore, but Annabeth sees something else in him too. Daniel likes rooting for the underdog. He likes that their team is an assortment mix of personalities and the track they practice on is ancient and probably not all that safe. He loves the simplicity of it all, and he really does love coaching the ruthless team of girls.

He cares.

And that's what had made Annabeth say yes to a date, and a second date, and a third. Because on that list of rules, #3 was _No pissing in the showers_ , and #6 was _Don't steal Jessie's fucking headband or she will punch you in the vagina_. So Annabeth doesn't take them all that seriously, and the rest of the girls couldn't care less whether she is sleeping with the entire team.

But she has never been able to commit to him. After two months, she woke up in his bed one morning and told him she needed a break. Two weeks after that, she was back in the exact same place. Annabeth had never thought she would be in an on and off relationship, but here she is, eight months down the line, currently in the off stage with Daniel Parker. But it doesn't feel like Ross and Rachel, or JD and Elliot. She can't see herself and Daniel five years down the line tying the knot and having babies and a mortgage. He doesn't feel like her end game, he's just Daniel. And she would feel cruel, tagging him along like this, but she knows he is doing the exact same thing with her.

Which is what leads her back to Percy.

For the past year and a half, since that Thanksgiving, every little thing feels different about him. But at the same time it's all so unattainably familiar. It feels like someone is holding her life just out of reach, dangling it in front of her like baiting a dog with a bone.

Annabeth manages to talk herself out of it; he's her best friend, she just misses him. He represents her home and the rose tint image of her childhood in her mind, and that's what makes her think it's about him. She does pretty well. She goes out with Piper and watches her lacrosse games, she goes to roller-derby practice, attends classes, falls asleep in the library, goes on a date with Daniel. She feels normal, utterly exhausted and a little deprived of something that feels like sleep, but she's content with her lot. Because college students are supposed to be sleep deprived and she loves college, more than she ever thought she could.

But then she sees Percy again, and she falls right back down the rabbit hole. She holds on a little too long when he hugs her and stops breathing for a moment when he smiles at her and she absolutely hates herself for feeling this way, because he is Percy and she made a promise. Best friends for life. Any out-loud words of her changing feelings for him would ruin that completely. Annabeth remembers her eight-year-old self's words:

_"Promise you'll always be my best friend."_

And then Percy's follow close behind, clearly in her head, like he is standing right beside her:

_"You can't get a divorce for that."_

She doesn't want to lose Percy Jackson from her life. He's been such a big part of it for such a long time, even now when they are a country apart. Annabeth knows she wouldn't quite feel whole without him. But what she feels now is little better than that. She watches his pixelated face on her computer screen, frowning at the screen as he reads an online paper for his assignment. He is biting his thumb nail and his eyebrows are scrunched together. Annabeth snaps a screen shot of him to send to Rachel later.

They do this every couple of weeks. When they first started college they Skyped or called almost every day. But they have less time now, and Annabeth keeps managing to find excuses to put him off each time he asks. But Percy has her now.

They don't even talk for the majority of the call; they just have each other's images in the corner of their screen as they work. It's nice. It reminds Annabeth of when they used to lie on his living room floor to do their homework. But she isn't getting any work done, he is far too distracting. Even when he's not talking to her, he's distracting.

"Hey," he says, pulling her from reverie. His voice is thick and quiet. "You know you haven't come to Berkeley since our road trip."

Annabeth sits up. "I thought you were reading a paper on oil drilling."

"I was. It's boring. You have to come and see me."

"Yeah, okay. I"ll just pull five hundred dollars out of my ass shall I?"

"No, wait," he moves closer to the screen, his face lit up with excitement, "I found a website that does really cheap flights."

"Would I be required to provide my own seatbelt?" she teases.

He rolls his eyes at her. "Shut up. And if you can't afford it, you could get your parents to pay for a bit of it. Just say that you're not coping without me." If only he knew. "Come on, I want you to meet my friends. You can come across for spring break."

"I was going to spend spring break with Rachel and Grover. They both miss you too by the way."

"I know. And I miss them more, but I'm gonna see them over summer. And I"ll barely see you then "cause you got that internship."

"Percy, it's an internship not a jail sentence. I"ll still see you."

He frowns. Annabeth wonders if he knows how adorable he looks when he pulls that face. Her own _mother_ would have a hard time saying no to those big puppy dog eyes.

"Please, Annabeth. Just think about it. Hazel is _dying_ to meet you."

"That's your housemate's girlfriend right?"

He nods. "Frank, he wants to meet you too. Hey, I"ll even sleep on the couch and you can have the bed."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "How chivalrous of you." She sighs. "Listen, I gotta go. It's late and I have class in the morning."

Percy rubs his face and squints at the corner of his laptop screen. "Damn, it is late. Okay, I"ll text you tomorrow. And think about Spring Break."

"I will," she promises.

"Kay." He smiles at her sleepily. "Night. Love you."

"Love you," she says before he disconnects.

She is left staring at his icon; a close up photo of him wearing her chunky black-rimmed reading glasses. She had taken the picture over winter break, when they had spent most of the two weeks with Grover with their study notes spread across Rachel's bedroom floor. Those two weeks had been something of a bliss, and far too short.

Annabeth wants to go to Berkeley. She wants to hang out with her best friend. Rachel and Grover will understand, and she does want to meet Percy's friends in person. He has met Piper after all. They had clicked instantly, as she had expected them to. They had spent a lot of their time going on and on about Spider Man, the probable existence of mermaids and Annabeth - poking fun at her like they were best of friends.

But if she goes then she will see him in person and it is becoming increasingly difficult to be around Percy. Annabeth had never in her life thought she would feel this way, but she feels it now; she doesn't want to be around her best friend.

...

The plane journey nearly kills her. Six hours and fifteen minutes in an aisle seat next to a grossly overweight guy who smells of cheese. She"d had trouble with her luggage at the airport, waited for three hours for her plane to stop being delayed, and stepped in baby puke in the toilets. When they finally buckle their seatbelts for landing, Annabeth is in a terrible mood. When she picks her suitcase off the baggage carousel, she is feeling slightly better. When she walks through the arrivals gate and sees Percy bouncing on the balls of his feet, she could break into song.

They hug their way out of the airport as he wrestles her suitcase off her, and wait on the sidewalk for a shuttle bus to come along. All the way to Percy's house he talks. He talks about his city, and how it's not his city like New York is and it will never be, but he still loves it. His house is an actual house, not an apartment block like Annabeth's. It has a roof and windows and steps outside the front door. It looks like a grown-up's house; at least on the outside. The inside is a different matter completely. Dozens of shoes and jackets line the hall; music blares from a few different places in the house; posters cover the old flowery wallpaper; cans are stacked around the television like a fort. Someone has clearly made an effort to tidy up, but the layer of four college boys living under one roof still visibly remains.

Percy's housemates are in the living room, sprawled out on the two green lumpy couches. Two of them hold black controllers and they all stare at the TV screen as a guy in uniform get his head blown off.

"You really are shit at this game," Percy says to one of the guys.

"Fuck off."

The words GAME OVER spread across the screen in blood and then the boy's attention is solidly on Annabeth. She waves lamely.

"Hey."

Percy knocks his shoulder against hers. "Guys, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, this is Frank, Connor, and Will."

She recognises them all from photos she's seen of them with Percy. Frank is big in every sense of the word; too big for his shy smile and chubby cheeks and he looks like he has yet to grow into his height and the width of his shoulders. Conner is smaller, probably the smallest out of all of them, with a quirk of a smile and nimble fingers that he tucks into the pockets of his jeans. Will is taller than Percy but shorter than Frank, with blonde hair, broad shoulders and a narrow waist; he looks Californian by birth. Especially compared to Percy, who, despite his increasingly darker tan, still doesn't look like a native.

"Hi," Will says. Frank follows with a mumbled hello and Connor just grins like he knows something she doesn"t.

Before they can have an actual conversation, Percy grabs Annabeth's shoulders and directs her from the room, up the stairs and into his bedroom. She hears the boys laughing downstairs and wonders if it is about her.

Percy's bedroom is a familiar sight. It's as if he's picked up the one in his New York apartment and dropped it in California. He has clearly attempted to tidy in here as he has done the rest of the house, but messiness remains like a stubborn grass stain on a white shirt. He dumps her bags on his bed which has been hastily made up with clean sheets. On the walls there are a few band and TV posters; mercifully there are no garage-worthy pinups. Littered around his sticker covered laptop on his desk are scraps of paper covered in his scrawled handwriting; coffee-stained mugs; a take out box;  a cereal bowl; coke cans; and various textbooks with marine animals and coastal photos on the covers.

One section of wall has been dedicated to photographs; amongst the polaroid pictures of people she vaguely recognises and others she doesn"t, she sees images of herself and other friends from home. Annabeth takes a smug sort of comfort in the fact that she is prominent in most, if not all, of Percy's home photographs. She is there in her bathing suit at the age of five holding up a heart-shaped rock next to a five year old grinning Percy. She is there with her arms around Grover and Percy's neck with scabs on her knees. She's there with Rachel wearing ridiculous sunglasses and paint splattered on their clothes. And she is there with Percy at their graduation, tears in her eyes, head ducked under his chin, not ready to say good bye.

It makes Annabeth happy that she has brought a little bit of home with him here. It also makes her happy to see the newer photographs, the ones she is not a part of. The ones of Percy looking too drunk with his friends; the ones of them having a barbeque on the beach; of a big group of them standing next to surfboards, smiling under the sun. It makes her happy to know that he has built this whole life out here all by himself; it makes her oddly proud.

"Alright, enough snooping," Percy says, interrupting her thoughts. "You've got plenty of time for that while you're here. I want to show you Berkeley."

"Alright." She grins at him. "Just let me change, I'm all gross from the flight."

He nods. "I"ll be downstairs."

He leaves her alone and she hears the others jeer at him when he gets downstairs; something about sharing the bed, she hears. Annabeth shakes her head; she's used to people being that way around the two of them. Until now, she's been confident enough in their friendship to dismiss others" doubts. But now there is doubt in her own mind; doubt about whether she will be able to continue being his best friend when she's starting to feel the way she is.

Annabeth puts that to the back of her mind as she pulls on a fresh set of clothes and sprays her underarms with deodorant. She joins Percy downstairs a few moments later and doesn't fail to notice how Connor's eyes linger on her legs which are left bare by her jean shorts.

...

Berkeley is stunning. With its big grey buildings and sun-bathed grassy lawns it looks like a college paradise. It suits Percy. He beams as he shows her around, like a little kid showing his best friend his secret den.

"So are you nervous for finals?" she asks him later, when they are sat on a bench eating ice cream.

Percy shrugs. "I guess. I haven't really thought about it yet."

"Percy, they start in less than two months!"

"I haven't invited you here to bug me about studying, Annabeth."

When she bites her lip he narrows his eyes at her. "How much work have you brought with you?"

She shakes her head and he leans in closer, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Annabeth, how much?"

She huffs. "Only a few books and my laptop."

"Annabeth! We're on holiday!"

"I won't study the whole time," she insists.

Percy sits back on the bench and stares out across the campus. "No wonder your bag weighed so much," he mutters.

She elbows him in the side. "Come on, Percy, it wouldn't be a vacation with me if I didn't make you study." He grunts noncommittally and she wonders if she's actually upset him. "Besides, this might mean you actually get good grades for once."

Percy stares at her and she cracks a grin. The next thing she knows, he's shoving her ice cream cone into her face and it's dripping off her nose and chin. She screams and lurches for him. Percy ducks out of the way, laughing wildly. She's pissed, but his laugh is infectious and as she tackles him to wipe her own face across his, she is grinning so widely her cheeks hurt.

"I'm so glad you came," he says dryly as they face each other on the path and wipe ice cream from their eyes.

Annabeth grins at him. "I missed you too."

They clean themselves off in one of the drinking water fountains and end up soaking the collars and fronts of their shirts.

"Great," he says, "now it looks like we've been in a wet t-shirt competition."

They take a tram down to the beach and pull off their shoes and socks to walk in the sand. Percy keeps his eyes trained on the ocean as they walk, like he doesn't want to look to her. It's probably a good thing because Annabeth's white V-neck has definitely gone see-through and her green bra is probably very visible.

The sun dips lazily towards the ocean, tinting the water deep orange. A few people mill around on the sand and some even in the water, but Percy and Annabeth may as well be alone as they wander along the beach, holding their shoes in their hands. Annabeth feels like she could tell him now, as their bare feet mould the soft sand and the sea breeze lifts their hair. She could take his hand and tell him anything.

"How's Daniel?" Percy asks.

Annabeth's fingers curl into her palm. "I broke up with him."

"Again?" his voice sounds strange and she can't figure out why.

"For good this time," she insists.

"I've heard that before," his words are dismissive but his voice is still edged and it bugs her. She is about to stop him and ask him what's wrong with him when he speaks up again,

"I met someone."

Annabeth blinks. "Oh?"

He nods, still not looking at her. "Emily. She's nice. She surfs and works in one of the bars near campus."

"That's…" She swallows. "That's great."

"Yeah." He nods, frowning still. "Yeah, it is."

"How long have you been dating?"

Percy bites his lip like he's embarrassed. "A few weeks."

"Oh."

She deflates a little. For Percy, a few weeks is over a month. He's been dating someone for a month and he hadn't told her until now. He always tells her. He tells her when he's talked to a girl in his class or gone home with a stranger – which is a rare instance. After all, she tells him everything too; he knows everything about Martyn, Harrison, and Daniel, and the few others in between. What had kept him from telling her about this girl?

"You could meet her this week." He goes on, scratching the back of his neck. "She's going to Colorado with her parents next week so…"

"Why Colorado?" she asks, not really interested.

"She has family there."

Annabeth doesn't know what to say. She stops and sits down on the sand, crossing her legs in front of her. After a moment, Percy joins her. He glances at her nervously.

"Are you angry?" he asks.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against his. "I'm not angry, Percy." Just hurting. "I'm just wondering why you didn't tell me until now."

"I don't know why," he says, "I just didn"t. We were planning your trip over and I never found an opportunity to slip it into conversation."

He's lying. He's had ample opportunity.

"Did you think I wouldn't come if you'd told me?" she asks.

"Would you have still come?"

Maybe not. "Yes. Is that why you didn't tell me?"

"Maybe."

"You're an idiot."

He smiles, ducking his chin. "You're just working this out now?"

It's right then that Annabeth realises she's in love with him.

Because she's not just working this out now; she's known for as long as she's known him that Percy Jackson is an idiot. And that for all that time he's been a compass pointing her North.

She's known this since he promised to be her best friend at the tender age of four, fake married her when they were eight and ditched the middle school graduation dance to sit on her porch steps. Since he sat on the floor of a laundry room and held her while she cried about a stupid boy and a stupid mistake. Since he held her hand in the emergency room and turned up on her front door step and made her smile and laugh and cry over and over again. Until she had felt blown up with emotion and utterly drained of it.

It hits her with full force that she loves him. That she is _in love_ with him.

Annabeth looks away from him and stares at the ocean. Percy sits beside her; unknowing, oblivious, sweet.

As he always will be.

* * *

 

Annabeth is once again facing graduation. Except this time it's a little bit less terrifying. She is ready for college to be over; she has had enough of assignments and exams and lectures. These have been some of the best four years of her life and she doesn't regret a second of it because these four years have shaped her life. She is twenty one years old, and ready for the real world (she thinks).

She's staying in Manhattan, in an apartment uptown with Piper and Rachel, and already has a job lined up with the architecture firm she"d had an internship with for the past two summers. Daniel is staying in the city too, still coaching at the college, but they have officially parted ways. She doesn't regret him either, but she is ready to move on from him and their unfulfilling relationship.

Piper's dress is undone. Annabeth stands holding the door open as her friend runs around the living room picking up things to stuff into her bag as she chatters into the cell phone wedged between her shoulder and her ear.

"I get it, dad. But I told you about this _months_ ago and you said you would make it… Okay, _Mindy_ said you would make it… well maybe if you answered your phone every once in a while..." Piper expels a harsh breath and stands up from where she's been digging underneath the couch cushions. "I'm _graduating_ , dad. From college. And if your only contribution to this day - one of the most important and significant days of my life - is to pay for my robes, then I guess I know where I lie in your list of priorities; right underneath “hire a new assistant so I don't have to fucking talk to another human for the rest of my life.” Good bye, dad."

She hangs up and presses her palms to her face to muffle her scream.

Annabeth - used to these sort of phone calls - stands silently by the door until Piper lowers her hands, zips up her dress, and hauls her bag over her shoulder. Halfway to the door, Annabeth holds up a finger.

"Uh, Pipes. Think you might be forgetting something..." She nods towards the garment bag hanging over the back of the couch.

"Oh, shit." Piper runs back to get it and then they are finally out the door, running down the hall to the elevator in their heels.

"So your dad's not gonna make it then," Annabeth comments as she pushes the button for the lobby.

Piper sighs. "The thing is, I'm not even surprised. But this time… I don't know, I thought he might actually come through. As if."

"Piper..."

"Sorry. I"ll get out of my mood now. I"ll just adopt your parents for the day; you've got too many of them anyway, and Elise loves me."

"Elise loves everyone."

Piper pulls a face as the elevator doors opened and an unsuspecting man receives one of Piper's less attractive expressions. Piper throws him one of her dazzling smiles as they duck past him and across the lobby. Annabeth's father waits on the curb outside for them and they run to the car, well aware that the ceremony starts in an hour, without needing her father to remind them.

They both pull up their tights and smooth down their clothes in the back of the car; Piper manages to finish her make up without stabbing herself in the eye with her mascara brush and Annabeth runs over her Valedictorian speech for the hundredth time - she still can't believe she's Valedictorian, she has said this to Piper a hundred times since she was first told and her friend just said _Of course you are dumbo, you're a freaking genius_ , and flicked her on the forehead - reading off her little cue cards that Piper has drawn smiley faces in the corners of ( _"to make her smile when she's in front of a couple thousand people"_ ).

When they are getting close to campus, Annabeth puts her cards away and rubs her sweaty palms on her thighs. she has opted for a black pencil skirt and a green blouse; her hair has been braided and pinned up by Piper and her make up is simple and clean. Piper wears a white dress with bright floral patterns near the hem; her hair is straight and loose with a few tiny braids in it - making Piper look like herself - and her make up is similar to Annabeth's. Of course she looks ten times more beautiful.

"I forgot to ask," Piper says as they climb out of the car, "is Percy coming?"

Annabeth feels herself sigh. "No, his graduation isn't until next week and it's too expensive for him to come back early."

"Bummer, I wanted to see him."

"He"ll be back in a couple of weeks."

Piper glances sideways at her with an annoyingly knowing look. Annabeth pretends not to see. Apparently her feelings towards her best friend have not gone completely unnoticed.

Percy is still, thankfully, oblivious. But Piper is rather more observant - not to mention living with her - and for their past year at college she has become increasingly more suggestive towards Annabeth acting upon her feelings. But Annabeth still can't do it.

It certainly doesn't help that Emily seems to have become a permanent fixture in Percy's life. Although they weren't officially together when Percy had come home last summer, come September, Emily was his girlfriend and has been ever since. And Annabeth wants to like her, she really does. But that girl drives her crazy.

She has only met her twice and has found her to be profoundly irritating both of those times. And it's not the same way that she had disliked Rachel when they were younger, because Annabeth is mature enough not to be petty now. It's just that Emily is _irritating_ . And what's worse is that she seems to be the polar opposite of what Annabeth is: disorganised, incredibly laid-back, overly sweet, short, brunette, and unargumentative - _she's very zen_ , as Piper says. And what's even worse is that Percy loves her, and everything about her. Which means that he loves everything opposite of what Annabeth is.

And that might just hurt more than she's willing to admit.

* * *

 

Annabeth is running late for work. This is an incredibly rare instance as Annabeth plans everything to the second; but the subway had unscheduled engineering work on her usual route and when she had gone to take an alternative route, there had been long delays. So she"d ended up going back up to the street and walking to the next station, but the weather had been so nice for January that she had decided to walk - why not? it's a gorgeous day - and her morning has gone downhill from there on.

She hunches awkwardly against the wall in the Starbucks restroom, pulling her white shirt underneath the dryer. She would have just taken it off completely but she's only wearing a bra underneath and its a public restroom. The coffee stain is still largely visible even after she's scrubbed it with soap in one of the tiny sinks, but its the best she can do. It's far too late for her to go back home and change; it's already 8:52 and she needs to be at her desk at nine before Jensen reports her to the boss. Jensen is an asshole.

Annabeth smooths down her stained shirt, shrugs on her jacket and picks up her bag, practically storming out the door. Jamie the Starbucks guy is waiting with a fresh coffee for her.

"Sorry again," he says, nodding at her shirt and handing over the grande coffee - with cream and one pump of hazelnut.

She takes it. "Don't worry about it."

"I hope you'll come again."

 _I won't._ "Sure thing."

Her office is mercifully only one block away and she swipes into the building at one minute to nine and sits down at her desk as Jensen walks by, tapping his watch as he goes. _Ass_. Annabeth sets her coffee down on her desk and starts her computer up. As it whirs to life, she breathes in deeply and calms herself down.

"Rough morning?" Tiffany, her cubicle neighbour asks.

Annabeth sighs. "The gods hate me today."

Tiffany throws her a pitying smile. "Chin up, sweetie. The worst days usually turn out to be the best."

Annabeth hopes she is right. She takes a sip of her coffee, which is too sweet - he must have added sugar - and turns her attention to her computer; opening up her emails and current projects. The morning becomes more productive from there, and by lunch time she is feeling human again. And what makes her day truly better is the face she sees grinning down at her when she shuts down her computer to go to lunch.

"Percy?" she says, shocked.

His grin widens. "Hey. I thought I would take you out to lunch like the awesome friend that I am."

Annabeth blinks at him and his face slowly shifts into uncertainty. "Unless you already have plans..."

"No! No, lunch sounds great. Just let me get my bag."

"Awesome," he says.

She kind of hates it when he says that word, it's like he's carried it back with him from California; like his stubborn tan and how he wears flip flops with jeans, like Emily. But she can't really be mad at him. She feels guilty enough already for having given him so little time this past year and a half. She gives him the excuse of work, which is certainly time consuming, but not so much so that she doesn't have time for him. But nowadays when she sees Percy, she sees Emily too. And try as she might, Annabeth still cannot stand to be around her.

"So where are you taking me then?" she asks as they leave the building, Annabeth scanning her way out and Percy nodding to John, the security guy.

Percy's smile is a little giddy. "How about Dita's."

"Seriously? We haven't been to Dita's since high school."

"Exactly; we're overdue."

The little diner looks exactly as they had left it; with pink-ish red booths, old records mounted on the wall, and the Rolling Stones playing through the fuzzy speakers of the ancient jukebox. The staff is new: a dark haired girl with a sleeve of tattoos and two ears of piercings who smiles widely enough when she takes their orders that Annabeth sees the black tattoo on her gums.

They settle into a corner booth at the back of the diner, the very same one that they used to sit in on their trips into the city as kids. For Annabeth, the place holds memories of Rachel drawing masterpieces on the napkins; Grover tipping his drink all over the floor and apologising to the waitress as the others stifled laughter into their fists. And Percy blowing bubbles into his specially-made blue milkshake, scowling at Annabeth as she bellowed with laughter when it went up his nose. Now, Annabeth removes her coat and looks up at Percy, who is frowning at her shirt.

"I'm sure there's a good story there," he says.

"Just a clumsy Starbucks guy," Annabeth dismisses with a wave of her hand.

Percy arches an eyebrow. "Starbucks? What would Grover say?"

"He won't say anything because he won't find out." She nudges his foot under the table and ignores how his responding smile makes her stomach squirm. "It was an emergency that required Starbucks coffee."

"I"ll forgive."

She rolls her eyes. "How generous. So why have you dragged me down here anyway? Did you wake up this morning feeling particularly nostalgic or is there an actual reason?"

He looks bashful all of a sudden as he draws his lip between his teeth and looks up at her through too-long lashes.

"You got me," he says. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself. Annabeth's stomach clenches. "Okay, I wanted you to be the second to know - you know, after my mom - cause you're my best friend, and I'm gonna tell Grover as well later but I wanted you to be first cause I feel like, I don't know-"

"Percy," she says, "just spit it out."

"Right, yeah." Another breath. A hopeful smile. "I'm getting married."

Annabeth's stomach drops through the floor. Her breath is drawn out by some invisible force and left sitting on the table in front of her, useless.

"Married," she says quietly, "to Emily?"

"Well, yeah." His smile has fallen away and Annabeth wants to put it back in place with words of happiness and congratulations. But she can"t.

She's stuck.

For the past two years, she has been able to put Emily in a little box; out of sight out of mind. As long as she doesn't think about it, their relationship isn't real. No, that isn't right; it's perfectly real, but it's stationary, it's limbo. In Annabeth's mind they are something to deal with another time, something to think about and worry about when she is able to. But this throws the box wide open and ruins all of her plans. This makes their relationships impossible to ignore. This is development. This is marriage and a mortgage and kids and a house with a white picket fence.

This is real.

"Annabeth?"

She doesn't know what to say to him. Congratulations on ruining my life? On destroying every possible "what if" or "one day" in her head. On officially confirming that this day will not turn around to be the best day, but will actually confirm that it is the worst day.

"I thought you'd be happy for me."

She looks up at Percy and the words are stuck in her throat, like they always seem to be of late.

"What did your mom say?" she manages at last.

Percy frowns. "She's happy for me. I mean… but whatever, that doesn't matter."

"What? Percy, what did she say?"

He huffs and looks away from her. "She thinks I'm too young. But she said as long as I'm sure this is what I want then she's happy for me. For us," he corrects himself, "for me and Emily."

She bites her tongue, but apparently her face is obvious enough.

"Come on," he says, "Spit it out. You know you want to." His voice has too much of a bite to be teasing.

Annabeth shifts, the leather creaks underneath her. "It's just that… well, Percy, you _are_ still young. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"You're acting like I'm being forced into this!" His defensiveness makes it clear that he's already had this conversation with his mother. " _I_ proposed to _her_! Of course I want this!"

"When?" His anger has sparked her own and this time it rises up to her throat, making her voice louder and sharper than before. "And it can't have been all that planned if you didn't even tell me you were going to ask her-"

"It was spontaneous, okay! And what makes you think I would have told you anyway? It's not like you really speak to me any more; you're barely my friend at the moment, Annabeth, never mind my best friend."

His words are spiteful and they hurt. Even though she knows there is truth in them, they hurt. So she responds with similar spitefulness.

"Because let's face it, Percy, ever since you came back from Berkeley you haven't been my best friend. You've been Emily's boyfriend; you've been lazy and unmotivated - you're in a job that you hate and you'll never leave it because it requires too much effort. The Percy I knew wanted to save animals, not sit in an office answering phones all day long. And now you're getting married because it's something to do; because you have nothing else going on in your life and you're bored."

Her spew of words ends as the waitress places two plates on their table and shuffles away, looking painfully awkward.

Percy is still staring at her slack-jawed, like she has just ripped the rug from under his feet. She stands and picks up her bag.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, glancing at their plates of food, "thanks for lunch."

She all but runs out of the diner, already holding her hand out to hail the next cab. It will be expensive, but she is beyond caring. Percy emerges from the diner just as a cab begins to pull over; he spots her and runs up the sidewalk.

"Annabeth!" he says. "What the hell-? What the hell was that in there?"

"I'm sorry," she repeats. The cab has stopped now, and she opens the door and stares at Percy's throat. "I shouldn't have said that." She makes to duck into the cab but Percy reaches for her arm.

"Wait, you can't just...go."

The cab driver makes an impatient noise. Annabeth takes a breath and, after a beat, meets Percy's eyes. They are full blown puppy dog pleading. Her resistance almost crumbles; she almost crumbles right into his arms.

Annabeth swallows. "I'm happy for you, Percy."

She slips out of his grasp and into the taxi, pulling the door shut behind her and giving the driver her work address. She does not look back out the window as the cab pulls away; she does not see her best friend standing on the sidewalk, looking more like the lost child she befriended in Kindergarten than ever. She stares ahead, feeling the ache of tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Fight with the boyfriend?" the cab driver asks in a gruff voice.

"No," she says, "he's my best friend."

* * *

 

Piper finds her in one of the spare bedrooms of the Montauk Beach house, sat on the very bed she used to sleep in on her visits here as a child with her head in her hands. The mattress is still as lumpy as she remembers, and groans like an old man with arthritis when Piper sits down next to her.

"How're you doing?"

Annabeth releases the hold on her hair and sits up. She's not crying; she's been willing herself not to cry for the past hour - or maybe it was days by now, or weeks, months even, as the wedding has drawn closer with damning speed - and she has succeeded. She lets out a heavy sigh.

"I keep thinking of situations in my head. Ones that have already happened but I change a detail each time; I tell him everything, how I feel and what I want."

"And what does he say back?" Piper prompts when she does not continue.

"Its" different. Sometimes he says it back, but the image goes away as soon as he goes to kiss me. Other times..." A sigh. "Most times he doesn"t. He's just silent, and I know that's it; that's the end of our friendship."

Piper makes an impatient noise at her side. "Well your imagination sucks."

"Tell me about it." She stands and makes her own noise of frustration. "How have I let it get this bad? What the hell is wrong with me?"

Piper sits on the bed, staring at her with a mixed look of pity and _I told you so_.

"What do I do?" Annabeth asks quietly.

At this, Piper stands, springing up like a racehorse released from a start gate. "Tell him now!" she says, like it's the simplest solution in the world.

Annabeth stares at her. "Piper, he's getting married. Today. In about five minutes."

"All the more reason to tell him," she insisted.

"Why?" Annabeth threw her hands up. "So I can make a fool of myself? So I can ruin the happiness of two very nice people who are very much in love with each other? Why would I tell him now, Piper?"

"So that he could make a decision knowing all the factors."

"He _does_ know all the factors! I've been here his whole life. He's made his decision."

Piper shakes her head and looks away from Annabeth. "Not consciously," she mutters.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that for a genius, you're also kind of a dumbass too."

Annabeth stares at her blankly. "What are you talking about?"

Piper rolls her eyes like it's painful. "Annabeth, he is as much in love with you as you are with him. You're just both too goddamn stubborn, or stupid, to figure it out."

Annabeth is shaking her head. "He's not in love with me. He loves me, but he's not in love with me."

Piper gives her a pitying look. Like she is a dog who's gotten her head stuck in the cat flap. "I'm not going to make you see otherwise am I?"

"Piper, I need to do this. I need a new start."

"Does it have to be in _Chicago_?"

"That's where the job is."

Piper looks like she might argue back. But instead she sighs and walks over to Annabeth, placing her hands on the other girl's shoulders. "Okay," she says, "okay. But you _have_ to tell Percy. He deserves to hear it from you. Not from a Facebook update when you move into your new apartment. Or from me."

She's right. Percy has done absolutely nothing to deserve her dismissive attitude towards him over the past few weeks - months, years even. He certainly doesn't deserve to hear about his best friend moving out of state from someone else, and after she has gone. He deserves to hear the words from her mouth. He deserves a good bye.

"You're right," Annabeth says, and the slump of her shoulders feels like she's giving in, "I"ll talk to him after the reception."

"Okay." And even though she's sort of won, Piper looks sad. She hugs Annabeth briefly and walks to the door. "I"ll see you out there."

Annabeth nods and watches her friend open the door to leave, watches her freeze in place as she turns to walk down the hall, watches her stare in horror at the person standing there, just outside the door.

She glances at Annabeth fleetingly, before Percy takes her place in the doorway. Annabeth's stomach sinks to somewhere between her knees. Without a word to Piper, he walks inside and closes the door, leaving her on the other side.

Percy looks incredible in his tux, too old and too big for this childhood bedroom. But his face is shattered.

"Chicago?" he says in a small voice.

Annabeth wraps her arms around herself and inhales deeply, it hurts. As it should. "I wanted to tell you sooner."

"When?"

She can't look at his face. "My plane leaves tomorrow."

Percy expels a harsh breath, like her words take it away from him. He is silent and she still can't look at him. He rubs his face and presses his fists into his eyes like he did as a child when he wanted to block out the rest of the world. Annabeth knows; she knows because she used to pry his hands away and watch as his vision became clear and his gaze focus on her. As it does now.

"Annabeth, I know this past year hasn't been easy, but… I thought we were okay again. I thought we were good."

"We _are_ ," she insists, "Percy I'm not moving because of you" - only partially true - "You're still my best friend and what I've said in the past is in the past, where it belongs."

Since her outburst at the diner six months ago, Percy seems to have taken her words to heart. He quit his job in the telecommunications centre and started working for a youth club with troubled kids while he applies for research teams into marine wildlife on the East coast. He's still marrying Emily; the spiteful part of Annabeth thinks that he might be going through with it to prove a point. But the rest of her sees how happy Percy is, especially since they started hanging out more with Piper, Jason, Rachel and Grover.

Over the past four months, Annabeth has made some serious decisions about her life: her feelings for Percy are not permanent, they are a fixture of her childhood with him; she doesn't want to lose him as a friend, and this requires space. Besides, she needs a change of scenery; she's lived in New York her whole life. All of this has led to her handing in her notice; finding a job in Chicago at a  smaller architecture firm; and finding a new apartment for herself - one that will not contain Piper and Rachel. This perhaps has been one of the hardest things to come to terms with. The three of them have been in preparative mourning for Annabeth's move. It has also brought about further change in her friends" lives; Piper will be moving in with Jason and Rachel is packing all of her belongings into storage to travel around Asia for six months with her friend, Callie.

They are all ready to move on; they have been given time to do so, but Percy hasn"t. He has learnt this information about her leaving in the last two minutes. Annabeth cannot blame him for being angry, though at the moment he just seems to be in shock.

He shakes his head at her. "You can"t," he says, "you can't leave."

"Percy-"

"The rest of it," he says, "The other stuff you said. Is that… is that true?"

 _Oh_.

Oh, _god_ , he heard it.

Annabeth's stomach has gone. She is bare and open and vulnerable. She looks at him, at his frowning face, and sees the flicker of something like hope. But that is just what she wants to see there. It is curiosity in his eyes and his parted lips.

She blinks at the ceiling and nods jerkily.

He takes a step towards her and she flinches back. "Annabeth. You _love_ me?" He says it like a question, like it is the most impossible possibility. Like she has cracked his world wide open.

"Percy..." She tries to say more, but it doesn't come. Her silence is enough for him.

He walks to her and holds her shoulders. "Don't go," he says determinedly. "Annabeth I… don't go. You _can't_ go. Stay with me."

Her heart leaps. His words awaken something in her chest; a hope buried so deep within her that she feels the stirring of cobwebs as it shifts. His words hint at something she yearns for so dearly that her heart might explode with wanting.

But she pushes it down, pushes his hands away and steps away from him.

"Percy, you're getting _married_. Emily loves you, and you love her." Her voice cracks and her eyes burn with tears. "And I can't be here; around you, knowing that you belong to someone else."

Percy looks down at his tux like he had forgotten where they are. "Oh god, Emily," he whispers, looking horrified with himself.

She stares at him. "You love her."

He meets her eyes. He looks like he wants to say no, but he nods as if her words had been a question. And then he shakes his head angrily and runs a hand through his hair.

"Oh god, Annabeth!" he bursts out. "Why didn't you tell me? We've been friends since we were _four!_ How long have you felt like this?"

She shakes her head, momentarily stunned by his outburst. "Why does that matter?" she fires back, angry that he is angry with her, and feeling better for shouting at him.

"Of course it matters!"

 _"Why?_ Why the hell does it matter, Percy? What difference can it possibly make?"

"Because…" he heaves out a breath and tugs his hair again, dishevelling it from its groomed style. He looks so much younger now. Vulnerable before her. "It might have changed everything," he mutters, almost to himself.

Annabeth's breath expels of its own accord.

"Percy," she says quietly, "I've been here the whole time."

He looks up at her, innocence pouring out of him. "So have I."

"No." She is shaking her head. "Don't do this now. This is just cold feet, this isn't real."

"Annabeth."

"No. You're getting married today, and that's the way it's supposed to be. I won't get in the way of that."

Percy is quiet for a moment. He looks like he is in pain. "You're leaving."

She nods, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She sees them in his too. "I'm leaving."

He steps forward, hesitantly, like he is afraid of her reception. But she steps forward too, and wraps her arms around him.

And for a moment they stand in an embrace. Both waiting for the moment they will have to let go and dreading when it will come. They will let go, and when they do he will be married and she will be in Chicago and they will be so very far away from that water tray in kindergarten, from their fake playground wedding, from the roller derby and the days where she would stand on the back of his bike and feel the wind in her hair. The safety and comforting predictability of their childhood has left them behind a long time ago, leaving them both struggling to keep their heads above water.

Annabeth will let him go, and she will carry on with her life. But not yet. For now she will hold on and pretend she is floating.

* * *

 

Seven months later and Annabeth Chase is content with her life. The architecture firm she works at is far more intimate than the one on Manhattan, which means that their team of five are able to work far closer with their clients to create what they really want. And although it does not hold the glamour of contributing monstrous structures to the growing New York skyline, she feels like she is doing something far more important: she is helping people build their homes, their lives. She is helping them create something permanent. And it's not a skyscraper, but it is enough.

Her apartment is nicer than the one she shared with her friends in New York and more affordable. It no longer holds the dregs of adolescence that the Manhattan apartment did, what with posters tacked to the walls and empty alcohol bottles filling the window ledges. This is her adult apartment, it is decorated conservatively. Her most beloved posters are framed on the walls, alongside artwork and a few framed photos. Her bedroom has in it only a large double bed, a mirrored wardrobe and a dressing table. No clothes littering the floor or photos tacked to the walls. Perhaps her favourite part of the apartment is the living room where the TV sits, barely used, opposite a small couch and a reading chair, behind which are shelves lining the wall absolutely filled to the brim with books. Often on an evening she will curl up in that chair with an old blanket wrapped around her and read into the early hours.

“So how did it go?" Piper's voice sounds strained through the laptop speaker as she arches her back and stretches her chin up to the ceiling, keeping her palms and knees firmly planted on the floor. "Am I about to see a gorgeous half-naked man walk into your living room?"

Annabeth changes position into angry cat, feeling her shoulders click. They are doing yoga via Skype; on Piper's insistence after listening to Annabeth complain about her shoulder and back pain. She insisted that if they did it together it would be fun. And she was actually right; Annabeth woke up at 6am actually looking forward to their yoga Skype session. They usually stay on for a while after, sipping coffee and talking like they did when they lived together.

"No you're not," Annabeth says, "although I'm seeing one walk into yours."

"Morning, Annabeth," Jason says by way of response, rubbing sleep from his eyes, still in his pyjamas, as he tips his coffee mug in the general direction of the laptop. He bends down to press a kiss to Piper's head and disappears from view.

“Stop hitting on my boyfriend," Piper says, "come on, tell me about the date."

Annabeth's sigh is masked by her deep breath in as they change positions into what Piper calls _boobs_ \- with their hips and palms to the floor and legs stretched out behind them as they arch their back and push their chests out.

"It was nice, he was nice."

"Nice? That's it?"

"Yeah. We had dinner, it was nice. We laughed, it was nice. He walked me home, it was nice. I felt absolutely no inclination to invite him up for a drink. It was nice."

Piper frowns. "This is the first real date you've been on since..."

She doesn't need to finish her sentence for Annabeth to know what she is referring to. Since Percy's wedding. Since Annabeth had finally told him how she felt. Since he married Emily on the beach and before he said _I do_ , glanced at Annabeth. Since she left the city for a new start.

"How is he?" Annabeth asks.

Piper's face is momentarily frozen on the screen as the connection falters. When it catches up, she is looking at Jason, and it's like they are having a silent conversation. She looks back to Annabeth and puts on a fake smile.

"He's doing okay. Have you spoken to him recently?"

“I talked to him last night, on the phone.”

They’ve kept in touch since Annabeth’s departure, since Percy returned from his doomed honeymoon. But they haven’t seen each other in person in all that time. They’ve skyped a few times, but it’s hard with the time difference - as little as it is - and both of their busy schedules. She misses him, no more or less than she’d thought she would, but she is still glad she left.

As it turned out, Percy and Emily’s marriage lasted a month. Their honeymoon had apparently been a disaster. Annabeth remembers the hollowness of Percy’s voice when he’d called her one night not long after he’d returned to New York - it had been the first time they spoke since the wedding - as he told her he didn’t recognise the girl he’d married.

"I didn't think it would be this different but...it's _so_ different. I don't know what to do."

It was like he'd been asking her advice, for her to help him, save him - as she always has done - from the situations he gets himself into. Annabeth remembers feeling glad that their friendship had been salvaged. She's glad he came to her and didn't shut her out like she'd been expecting him to.

As for his relationship with Emily, Annabeth had pushed the little green monster off her shoulder and told him not to give up. It's normal for things to be different after marriage, but you can't bail out after you hit the first speed bump.

He'd agreed, and she thinks he really had tried - Percy doesn't do anything half-heartedly - but in the end it hasn't been enough. It hadn't been a speed bump, but a brick wall, too tall and too wide to overcome.

Annabeth's contact with Percy has been somewhat sporadic over the past seven months and it's hard to keep track of how he's actually doing, she can only tell so much from a phone call. She wants to know whether he looks tired, if he walks with hunched shoulders like he's carrying some great weight. She wants to know when he last cut his hair and how often he's doing his laundry. She knows well enough that Piper and Sally are looking out for him, but she worries. Always.

Nonetheless, Annabeth still feels she made the right decision by leaving. It is clear in Piper's expression that she does not agree.

Annabeth moves until she's sitting and spreads her legs out in front of her, reaching up before she bends over one leg, holding her foot in her hands. She hears Piper shuffle around to do the same and is grateful for her friends’ silence. She loves Piper, but her opinions on Percy and their relationship are often not constructive to Annabeth's moving-on attitude.

"Okay," Piper says eventually, "so we need to find you another date."

Annabeth holds back a groan, but is grateful for the change of subject.

. . .

It is one of the slower work days. Annabeth doesn't go into the office until ten and the eight hours until she can leave drag sluggishly. She always feels this way halfway through a project, when the initial excitement has somewhat faded and she is too far from being done to be motivated towards the finish line. So when six o'clock finally comes, she switches off her computer and is waiting at the door with her coat already on before Stacie and Melissa can even stand up.

"Someone's eager to get home," Mel comments with a grin, "got a hot date?"

"Mm, with my book and a hot chocolate, yes."

Mel chuckles. "Living the life."

"I'm happy."

Stacie switches off the light and locks the door behind them. "Speaking of hot dates," she says as they start down the narrow stairs, "how did it go last night?"

Annabeth sighs internally. "It was nice."

" _Nice?_ " Mel says in Piper's tone from this morning.

But before Annabeth can elaborate, the two girls in front of her stop in their tracks. She almost crashes into them.

"Hello," Stacie says from the front.

"Hi," the male voice responds.

Because of the sharp descent of the stairs, Annabeth has to bend down to see the owner of the voice. Through the heads of her colleagues she sees a man with black hair dripping into his wonderfully blue-green eyes. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his coat, which is soaking wet. He looks up at them and offers a small smile. It's just shy enough to be endearing.

"I don't suppose Annabeth Chase works here?"

Stacie and Mel turn to stare at Annabeth but her eyes are still fixed on the man standing at the bottom of the stairs. At those eyes and that hair and that face she has known since she was four years old.

"Percy," she says in barely a whisper, "what are you doing here?"

"Um," Stacie says, "we'll leave you two alone." She all but shoves a reluctant Mel down the stairs and past Percy. "See you Monday, Annabeth."

"Yeah," she replies faintly.

She walks down the steps slowly and stops a few from the bottom so that she is still taller than Percy by a few inches. She prefers it this way. She doesn't want him to be able to look down at her.

"You're in Chicago," she says.

He expels a breath, like relief. "Yeah."

"Are you going to offer any more explanation than that or am I going to have to guess?"

"Sorry." He rubs his face. She wants to pull his hands away and press them between her own. "I had a speech planned."

A smile tugs up the corner of her mouth. "A speech?"

"Yeah, I rehearsed it on the plane. The people next to me thought I was insane."

"They're not far off."

Percy's face relaxes into a smile. He looks up at her with questioning eyes and steps forward. Annabeth hesitates and then sits down, shrugging out of her coat. Percy joins her and they squeeze onto the narrow step.

"You're all wet," she says.

"It's raining outside."

"I figured. You're getting me all wet."

"Oh! Shit, sorry."

He shrugs out of his coat and lays it across the step behind them. Annabeth is suddenly grateful for how small her workplace is, and that there will be no one else coming into the building tonight to disturb them from their spot on the stairs.

The dry sleeve of his sweater rests against her arm now. He's warm and she leans against him a little - as much as she can in the small space. He smells like rain and coffee. Annabeth looks at him and tugs at a damp strand of hair sticking to his forehead.

"You need a haircut."

He laughs. "Yeah. I kind of do."

"So," she says, "you said something about a speech."

"Yeah. It feels kind of stupid now."

She nudges him. "Come on, I'm used to it by now. Why don't you start by telling me why you're in Chicago?"

He looks at her. They are so close that she can see the little specks of gold in his irises, she can feel his coffee tinted breath on her skin.

"Because you're here," he says, as if it's the only explanation she needs. It isn"t.

She shakes her head at him. "I've been here for months, Percy."

"I know." He sighs. "I _know_ because it feels like you've been gone for years. You know when we were in college and I was in California? It felt weird to be away from you and it sucked. But it was okay because I knew it was only temporary. I knew that we would end up living in the same state again. But this is different. This is like you're never coming back."

"Percy, I don't-"

"This isn't me asking you to come back," he says seriously, "I wouldn't ask you to do that. I just… what I'm trying to say is that… I think I planned my whole life with you as a major part of it without really thinking about it. And it's only since you left that I realised that."

She considers his words for a moment. In the silence, rain hammers against the window like background static. It acts as a bubble closing the two of them off from the outside world.

"I'm still in your life," she says against the static rain.

He sighs. "But not enough. I miss you, Annabeth."

He takes her hand and squeezes. Annabeth drops her head to his shoulder and closes her eyes. She is safer there, where she cannot see his face and be tempted to lean in. She has missed him too, too much. It has been a muted ache, now made loud and prominent by his presence. She can't imagine him leaving again now.

"I got divorced," he says.

She lifts her head to get a look at his face. His eyebrows are pinched together as he stares at their linked hands.

"I know," she says, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

"I wish you could have been there."

"Percy, I--"

He shakes his head and looks at her suddenly. "I don't mean-- I'm not blaming you for not being there. You've been there for me, more than I deserve. But it was a really shitty time to go through without my best friend. There were so many days when I wanted to talk to you and turn up on your doorstep, or just--" He sighs. "--see you."

She bumps his shoulder - which is hard to do in the small space - and offers a small smile. "Ditto."

He laughs softly, it shakes his shoulders and she feels it. Feels it creep into her bones.

"You look great by the way," he says after a moment. "Chicago is treating you well."

Annabeth's cheeks get warm and she feels ridiculous for blushing but she can't help it. "Thanks. You look-- Well I was gonna say you look great too but we're too good friends for me to lie to you like that."

"Wow. Ouch. Go easy on me, Chase."

She grins at him. "Never." She waits a beat before asking him a question he knows he'll hate. "So how's life as a divorcee?"

Percy's head pulls up and he rolls his eyes just a bit before settling his gaze on the wall opposite. "It's great. Me and the other divorcees meet up every Wednesday night and talk about our feelings."

Annabeth laughs, louder than she has for a long time, it breaks free of her throat like a bursting balloon. "That sounds very productive."

He smiles like he is glad to have made her laugh. "No but in all seriousness, my mom has kept me in order, and Piper and Jason have been on my back too."

She ducks her head. "Well that might be my fault a little bit."

He frowns at her. "What do you mean?"

Annabeth bites her lip. "I might have been bugging them to make sure you're okay. I mean they care about you too so they were doing it anyway I was just...encouraging them."

Percy laughs. "Oh my god. Were you asking for weekly updates or something?"

She punches his arm. "No. Shut up."

He nudges her. "I'm glad you were worried about me."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, keeping her chin tucked to her chest. "How about you tell me what you're doing in Chicago now?"

Percy sits up at those words. His back straightens and his chin lifts and when she glances up at him, she notices how pink his cheeks have gotten.

"I finished work early today and wound up at the airport,” he says. “I didn't even realise where I was going until I was there, and then I bought a ticket for the next flight out to Chicago. And here I am."

Annabeth gapes at him. "Does anyone know you're here?"

"I called my mom in the checkout lounge, and texted Jason before I boarded the plane. But then I turned my phone off and I haven't turned it back on yet."

She shakes her head at him. "You are actually insane."

He looks right at her, face serious, brows pinched together. "I wanted to see you. I needed to tell you..." He expels a breath and looks ahead, closing his eyes. Annabeth watches his temple and jaw jerk as he clenches his teeth. "I can't forget what you said at the wedding. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since the moment you left and I can"t..." He opens his eyes, looks at her. "I realised I never actually heard you say it. I kept thinking about it, but I haven't. I just heard Piper and then I asked you, but you never actually said it."

Her breathing has sped up. She just stares at him, hoping he won't ask, that he won't make her go through this again.

"You don't have to say it," he says, "that's not what I'm trying to say, I just... I've been thinking about it a lot."

"You have?"

He nods. "A lot."

"And what conclusion has this thinking brought you to?"

It's easier to distance herself from this conversation with indifferent words and a forced indifferent tone. But she can hear the tremor in her own voice that betrays her. She stares at the wall in front of them, at the grey marks on the cream paint, and tries not to shake.

"That I love you," he says softly. "That I am completely, stupidly in love with you. And I have wasted the past months not being with you because I was too scared to say anything and because I didn't want to rush into anything after Emily; and the past years of my life in denial because I was scared and I didn’t know what I wanted. Or what you wanted.”

Annabeth can’t breathe. She stares at him, speechless for possibly the first time in her life because her best friend has just confessed the very thing she has been feeling for years, the very thing she has been desperately wanting to hear from him for just as long. He’s said it, he’s here, saying it. And she can’t move a muscle.

He saves her. “But I know what it's like not to have you in my life now. And, Annabeth." His eyes are intense and dark underneath his slanted eyebrows. "I hate it," he says. "I hate it when you're not my best friend."

Annabeth is crying.

The tears this time do not hurt. She is smiling and laughing as they stream down her cheeks and catch on Percy's thumbs as he reaches for her. She leans forward into him and feels his breath on her lips before it catches.

And it is here, with the smallest of spaces between them, with Percy's hands so gentle on her face and his eyes closed like he is at peace, that Annabeth says it; the words he has never heard, the ones that have eaten her up inside and almost forced their way out so many times.

She whispers them against his lips, like a secret.

"I'm in love with you."

 

She figures you can live your life one of two ways. You can play it safe, take the paths that you can see the end of, that you know will lead you safely to the other side. That life will be relatively easy, simple, nice. Your feet will land on solid ground every step of the way.

Or you can jump off the edge. You can follow a dream or an instinct or a wild thought that will lead you into unknown territories. It will make your heart skip and your stomach sink. It will be difficult, and stressful and sometimes terrifying; like her move to Chicago, like her decision to study architecture against her parents advice, like every single time she has pushed herself to do more, to do better. Annabeth knows she is capable of hitting the ground running. And she knows that the freefall beforehand is oh so terrifying and oh so difficult.

And oh so worth it.

She presses her lips to his, and feels the ground drop from beneath her feet.


End file.
